


To Ruin.  To Greatness.

by ZsadistCortel



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Child Neglect, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Drama, Favoritism, Gen, Ghosts, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Poor choices, Prophecy, Regrets, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-19
Updated: 2013-07-19
Packaged: 2017-12-20 16:06:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/889197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZsadistCortel/pseuds/ZsadistCortel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One to ruin.  One to greatness.  Old Rome made the wrong decision.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Ruin.  To Greatness.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

 

“Great Rome!  Hear me well!  Your grandsons will inherit this land from you, scarred and in turmoil.  Together they will unite its scattered masses.  It shall be to you to decide which twin will be the dominate personification of their people.  Be warned!  One shall have the power to make their nation even greater than your own empire has ever been.  The other... the other will bring it down to ruin. Choose wisely, Great Rome.”  The oracle was quiet then, her body collapsing to the floor of the temple.  Her attendants rushed to her side, terrified that their lady might have been harmed in some way.

 

Rome was very confused by the Oracles words.  He pondered them all the way to his stately home overlooking the capital.  When he reached the front gate, he was attacked by two tiny boys with hair curls. One had a shining mop of auburn with his curl to the left side of his head.  The other looked a bit older and had rich brown hair and a curl to the right side of his head.  Feliciano grabbed onto his grandfather's leg, attempting to climb up the limb and get his arms around the man's neck for a bigger hug.  Lovino snuggled his grandfather's arm affectionately.  The empire smiled warmly, lifting both boys into his arms and carrying them into the house.  Something had changed though.  Rome's gaze was no longer fond, but critical and searching.

 

Great Rome was concerned.  He had spent the last few days observing his grandsons as closely as he could.  He had to pick the right one to lead his people after he was gone.  No mistakes.  Time, he could feel, was running out.  He needed to take his successor away to be trained and protected. The choice seemed clear.

 

From his observations, Great Rome saw that Feliciano was always happy.  Kind and gentle, his younger grandson despised war and excelled at all things civilized.  He was the obviously the one that would lead the people of Italy into greatness after Rome fell.

 

Lovino seemed another story.  Lovino was violent and angry at times. He swore and had trouble showing anyone affection.  How would he ever make allies with a personality like that?  No.  Lovino would not be a good successor.  He would have to be sent away while Rome trained Feliciano in the ways of nations.  He had decided.

 

Rome took the boy to Austria.  He informed Lovino that he would be staying here while his grandfather and brother went away.  Rome didn't stop to say good-bye.  He took Feliciano's hand and walked out the door.  If he had looked back, Rome would have seen the look of betrayal and torment as Lovino watched them abandon him.  But Rome didn't look back.  He never looked back.

 

While on his travels with Feliciano, Rome heard the occasional news of Lovino.  At first, it was always tales of his failures at cleaning Mr. Austria's house.  Later, it was of his removal from Austria's house by Spain.  To Rome, this seemed the right course of action. Lovino would learn how to serve as a secondary representative of his country.  That was, after all, his future role.  Second to Feliciano.

 

When Rome began to fall, he made sure Feliciano would be safe at the house of Austria.  There, the future personification of Italy would be protected by the force of the aristocrat's armies and allies.  No such worry was given to Lovino's care and protection. 

 

They had to travel through Spain's land to get to Austria, but no mention of Lovino was ever made.  When Rome died, his hand was held by Feliciano.  Lovino was never called to his side.  By the time he had been informed of his grandfather's condition and had asked Spain to hurry him to the man's side, Rome was already dead and buried.

 

Spain held Lovino as he cried for the grandfather who had left him alone in the house of strangers.  Who had passed him over for his younger brother for reason's Lovino would never know.  Despite everything, Lovino still loved Rome and had wanted the chance to make the man proud.  To show him his worth.  Lovino had wanted to make Italy a nation that was even greater than the Roman Empire that had raised them. 

 

“I would have made us great,”  Lovino sobbed into Spain's chest. The older nation just held him close, sympathy for the child held carefully in check.  Lovino had never appreciated anything he perceived as pity.  Spain loved this tiny nation in his arms.  And Lovino would understand that one day.  Spain promised himself that it would be so.  Lovino was the only one for him.  That was the right decision.

 

 

_(Early-1940s)_

 

Old Rome's ghost looked around and saw only war torn fields and bombed out buildings.  The city of Rome seemed abandoned.  World War II raged on around him.  Italy was in tatters.  A great weight pressed down on him.  He had made the wrong decision. 

 

When the Allied forces began to close in, Rome saw Feliciano clinging in fright to Ludwig's side and knew that it was because of his favored grandson that their land was in tatters.  Lovino stood to the side, his eyes haunted and his body exhausted.  Rome could see who had taken the brunt of the assault on the land.  The older boy's ever present scowl was missing.  In its place, a look of defeated resignation.  Suddenly, Ludwig grabbed Feliciano's arm and fled down the crumbling streets of the city.  The redheaded Italian did not look back.  Not even to see if his brother was following them.

 

Rome turned away, bowing his head in shame though he was not able to be seen.  He could stay no more.  Rome looked back for the first time in his existence.  One last glance towards the child he had forsaken gave him pause.  His brunette grandson had not moved an inch. Lovino's eyes were no longer even on the advancing forms of the Allies.  Instead, they were glazed and turned in the direction of the northwest.  Toward Spain.

 

Old Rome closed his eyes and cried.  The one who could have made this land great once more had been passed over for another.  Lovino's home was not in Italia any longer.  The oracle's words echoed in the former empire's ears as he walked away. Italy was in ruins.

 

***The End** *


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